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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24471415">Cry Havoc!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MueraRashaye/pseuds/MueraRashaye'>MueraRashaye</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origami_Roses/pseuds/Origami_Roses'>Origami_Roses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aelius' Backstory Ficlets [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bets &amp; Wagers, Gen, Mercenaries, Training</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:08:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24471415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MueraRashaye/pseuds/MueraRashaye, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origami_Roses/pseuds/Origami_Roses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Well before Valdemar was more than a name on a map, mercenaries fought and died for others' causes. Well before setting foot in Valdemar, the Iron Dogs were a well-known mercenary company. Training and recruitment are, of course, very important.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Aelius' Backstory Ficlets [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cry Havoc!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spring. His least favorite season, with the loving exception of winters spent on campaign. Winters on campaign were the literal worst, but spring time in barracks was nothing but trouble, because spring in barracks meant <em>recruiting</em>.</p><p>Master-Sergeant Andrej finished addressing the new recruits and divided them into groups for their initial skills assessments and training that would take place over the next few days. At least the Iron Dogs could afford to be a little picky. Not <em>particularly</em> picky, their reputation wasn’t quite so glorious and they’d had some hard contracts these past couple years, still weren’t quite as well-manned as they’d like – that damned Lostras contract had been a special kind of hell, and he sincerely hoped that's exactly where the instigators of that particular shit show were currently rotting.</p><p>No, not particularly picky, but they could actually throw some of these so-called recruits out on their ear if they were incurably stupid. No barrel-scraping for them, thank whatever gods were listening.</p><p>Taking a deep breath and abandoning that line of thought, he went to make sure those overseeing the afternoon's trials were ready. This was the second batch of the season, and he’d done this long enough that his brief address and division gave him a decent feel for them. He didn't expect much, to be frank, but more than half of them would likely be passed on for actual training.</p><p>The riding trials that afternoon went well. None of the recruits were terrible in the general obstacle course, and almost all of them could at least stay on their horse over the series of increasingly difficult jumps. A few would be sporting some painful bruises, though. As twilight fell, he dismissed the new recruits to tend their mounts before adjourning to the mess hall and then to their temporary barracks for the night. They'd have another long day tomorrow. He looked over to the side of the parade grounds where the veteran members of the Iron Dogs watched, debated and waited. This particular batch had three – <em>three</em>, gods mercy, someone had definitely gotten cursed last campaign – arrogant nobly born pricks, third and fourth sons who'd grown up together and decided that the adventuresome life of a mercenary was their ticket to fame and fortune. He was already hoping they'd wash out.</p><p>A bit of rowdy camaraderie was the perfect end to the day, and he felt the tension between his shoulders ease as he slipped into the common room and accepted a drink and a seat from Mage-Corporal Bors. The usual round of recruitment betting was in full swing, and he tipped his head back and listened, careful to do his very best not to react to the theories that were getting tossed at this season’s bookies. No need to give any advantage, he’d place his bets later tonight when he wouldn’t potentially be tipping off his competition.</p><p>Hells, he might even win something this year, seeing as Tebron and Ormis had been voted as bookies this season. The (maybe?-)twins were inveterate tricksters and con artists par excellence, but utterly trustworthy in business. Usually. With this they were likely safe, since the bookies weren't allowed to make wagers, getting instead a set percentage of the money gambled... and if they still felt like rigging things for their own amusement, Staff-Sergeant Aelius would be looking over their shoulders to keep them honest. It sounded like this year’s bets were getting particularly wild, with nobility in the mix. That always made things lively, and he was looking forward to getting his own bets in, especially with Specialist Kamarie drawing the lot for running the sparring assessment. Petite, slim and conventionally pretty, she seemed to bring out the worst in at least one cocky little bastard in every batch of new blood, and he could practically guarantee one of the three noble-born would earn her wrath; the only question was which one would get the worst of it. It was certain to be entertaining.</p><p>He kept enough of an ear out to get a feel for which way the odds were sliding, but focused most of his attention on enjoying his beer. The mages always kept their ales spelled to the perfect temperature, and he was more than happy to benefit from Bors’ patronage tonight.</p><p>Far later than he should be awake, considering his next morning, he finally sat down with the other training officers and put his wagers in. After he got that information, he got the run down on the scenarios he needed to at the very least not deliberately avoid the next morning, so some of these bets could even be answered. Seeing as he’d bet on one such event himself, it was only fair to give their new lambs enough rope to hang themselves in all sorts of different ways.</p><p>It wasn’t like it was difficult. Earlier than he'd like the next morning, Andrej addressed the recruits again, dividing them into smaller groups for a series of additional tests and making sure to group them properly. He deliberately split the nobly-born up, each of them in a different group. He’d bet they would object, but though they shared looks among themselves, none of them spoke up. He wrote that bet off as a loss... until he saw them all follow the group Mage-Corporal Bors led toward the salle while the other groups went elsewhere. That was a small win for him. Bors, however, had won the bet on <em>how</em> they'd object. Eh. Whatever. Bors had a tendency to predict the oddest things. It was all in good fun, anyway.</p><p>He had to cover a snicker with a cough when Bors turned to wave them into the salle, giving a theatric roll of his eyes once that trio slipped past him. It was a damn shame Andrej had to stay out here, but at least Bors and Aelius would witness the beat-downs, they were good story tellers. </p><p>***===***pagebreak***===***</p><p>Kamarie lounged against the salle wall, waiting for the ickle greenies to come get terrorized into line. She hated doing evaluations... well, she hated the paperwork. Fortunately Maras was recorder this time so she could just focus on the fun part.</p><p>Aelius interrupted her musings on the matter with, "Bet you whichever noble brat is in this group makes kissy faces at you."</p><p>She just snorted, "What stakes?"</p><p>"Drinks tonight. Heard the Red Heron just got in a new shipment, thought we could see how greatly exaggerated rumors of the quality are."</p><p>"No go. Getting shitfaced drunk would not be a good idea. You know how recruitment season is. I'd rather a Hunt."</p><p>"Mosquito?"</p><p>"Vampire."</p><p>Aelius' eyebrows rose as he looked at her in surprise, "Hmmm, well I suppose with three... Mad dog?"</p><p>"Kyree should be fine."</p><p>"Fair enough. A Hunt, but the bet is on two out of the three. The one coming in tries to get kissy, and one of the others soils himself when you put your devil face on."</p><p>"I'll take that bet, and I'll bet you he's much cruder than kissy faces."</p><p>Aelius barked a laugh, shaking his head, "Not a chance. That's practically a guarantee."</p><p>She just grinned, making sure to show all her teeth as she drawled, “<em>Practically</em>? Are you implying that you're scared to take a bit of a <em>risk</em>?"</p><p>"I just bet you a Hunt over kissy faces. Fear of risk is not indicated."</p><p>She cackled, but quickly pulled her dead-eyed mask back on when Bors started shepherding the first group into the salle, seeing Aelius shift forward with his own professional murderhobo face in play. Looked like they’d get some excitement already, Bors had been right on for how they’d protest being separated, uncanny bastard. Aelius let the group assemble in front of them and stew in silence for a long awkward breath-and-change before he locked his gaze on the noble trio and said shortly, “You were assigned to different groups. You and you, return to your assigned place.”</p><p>The bulkier brunette puffed up his chest, and somehow looked down his nose while looking up at Aelius. What a<em> talent</em> this young man had. She couldn’t wait to see him do it with bruised eyes and crushed cartilage.</p><p>“We come as a group, we stick together,” he said, voice less unpleasant than she’d expected. At least hearing him yelp wouldn’t grate on her ears too badly.</p><p>Aelius didn’t so much as twitch, saying flatly, “These are individual assessments, how your friends do has no bearing on your placement. You have been given as order. Follow it."</p><p>The smallest one, a blonde, looked uncertain, taking half a step back. Didn’t have enough of a brain to actually obey, not when the last one, with a nattily trimmed beard she’d <em>definitely</em> arrange to have ruined during training, gathered up his own nerve to sneer, “No. We don't have to follow <em>your</em> orders."</p><p>Huh. Not the one she’d have pegged as the ringleader, but neither of the others gainsaid him. The blonde one could have half a chance if they peeled him away from the others, and by the considering look Aelius was giving him – and the way the blonde was half-cringing – they’d get the chance to find out. Before Aelius could take them down a peg himself, Bors stepped in, saying sternly, “That is one mark against you for insubordination, and you just volunteered to let your friends watch you get your ass handed to you. Immediately following that, they will report to their assigned positions or you'll all be out on your ears, and we'll blacklist you and pass the word around as to why.”</p><p>Wouldn’t do to give them a chance to get their heads out of their asses before she had a chance to have her fun. Time to speak up herself.</p><p>“Are you done ripping the kid's face off, Bors? We've got a score of little idiots to get through and I'd rather get started.”</p><p>“Not at all, Kam,” he replied, giving the kid a shove that sent him stumbling into the sparring ring, “I've got a lot more face ripping to do, but it can wait a few minutes. He's all yours.”</p><p>The young fool stared as Kamarie stepped into the ring, taking in her slight stature, before smirking, “Oho, I didn't realize we were to be tested in <em>that kind</em> of sparring. Kole Anthrarter, at your service.”</p><p>Oh this one was <em>far</em> to sure of himself to lower his dignity to kissy faces, she was <em>definitely</em> getting that Hunt.</p><p>***===***pagebreak***===***</p><p>Aelius watched his bet get lost with a vague sort of resignation. Ah well, it’d been a long time since he and Kamarie had gotten a good Hunt in, and it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy them himself. He’d been looking forward to trying out the Red Heron’s new shipment, but it was of little import. He’d let the twins slip a few rigged bets into the books so they owed him a share of their take; he could try it out on his own later.</p><p>Having taken care to stand near the blonde he suspected wasn’t brain dead, Aelius barely managed not to smirk when he groaned at his friend’s attempt at a lascivious wink-and-smile combination. Kamarie’s own face stayed flat.</p><p>He dropped a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder when he opened his mouth, likely to chide his friend in some way, catching the blonde’s sidelong glance and saying quietly, “No interference from by-standers. You will remain silent as this lesson is taught.”</p><p>The kid clamped his mouth shut and nodded in acknowledgement. The brunette looked mulish, but gave a short nod regardless. Aelius squeezed the blonde’s shoulder once more in warning and let go, turning the bulk of his attention to the ring. Bors had gotten the rest of this group lined up along the walls, interspersed with a few of the Iron Dogs who had come in to observe and assist, and repeated the non-interference rule.</p><p>Kamarie finally gave her prey a slow, unimpressed blink.</p><p>“That's a second mark against you for sheer stupidity and blatant disrespect to a superior,” she informed him, cracking the batons together and handing one over to him, “We will be using weighted batons coated with grease paint, which will leave a definite mark when a blow is struck. Standard sparring rules regarding wounds taken apply. Staff-Sergeant Aelius is arbiter.”</p><p>The brat smirked as he accepted the weapon, “So eager to take me, then? I know that pretty wenches are often experienced with <em>swordwork</em>.”</p><p>The blonde was actively cringing now, and Aelius couldn’t blame him, Kole Anthrarter actually waggled his eyebrows as he continued, “I'll be nice and make this an easy match. I bet I can get you pinned in record time.”</p><p>Then he winked. Again.</p><p>Those watching from the sidelines immediately began a series of furiously whispered wagers that Aelius was a little sad he couldn’t join in on, because they hadn’t had a recruit this stupid in quite some time. Oh well, he’d get some drinks out of the ones that didn’t witness it, because this was going to be <em>good</em>.</p><p>Kamarie rolled her eyes, "Hey, Maras, think we could suspend the rules against potential recruits betting on their own assessments? 'Coz I'd love to see how much 'Cull' here thinks he can afford to lose besides his dignity and the respect of everyone around him.”</p><p>And without further ado she launched into a run-turned-roll, smacking his leg and coming up into a crouch behind him.</p><p>“Crippling blow. Take a knee,” Aelius declared, not bothering to hide his smirk at the moron’s dumbfounded expression. When Kole didn't move, Aelius began counting down from five out loud, giving him time to comply.</p><p>He turned to face her, shock and outrage warring on his face, but didn’t take the knee as he gaped at her, protesting, “I wasn’t ready!”</p><p>Kamarie didn’t bother waiting for Aelius to actually try and enforce the take-a-knee rule, knowing that in a fight like this he wouldn’t bother - that wasn’t the point. Besides, that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun for her, and he knew better than to deny her a bit of fun.</p><p>Lunging forward, she aborted the motion to drop low and lash out with a foot, sweeping his near leg out from under him and landing a solid hit on his arm when he tried to salvage the situation, then tossing herself into a backwards roll to get out of the way, landing on her feet as he properly hit the dirt and laughing around her sneer, “Not <em>ready</em>? Do you expect every footpad to warn you, little bratling?”</p><p>He responded by flailing a blow at her as he lurched to his feet, snarling, “You bitch!”</p><p>She just flashed him one of her more feral smiles and chuckled, “Why, thank you!”</p><p>Aelius huffed fondly, because honestly, her usual reaction to that so-called insult never got old. He just raised an eyebrow at her when she sidestepped Kole’s rush and struck his back as she did, hard enough he stumbled. Her glance was the closest Kam would ever get to making puppy-eyes, so he tilted his head to hide the smile he didn’t quite manage to suppress and carefully failed to call the match.</p><p>The stout brunette twitched forward, but the blonde (and potentially Aelius' new favorite recruit) stopped his friend with a hand on the wrist and a shake of his head. Both flickered their gazes to him and he raised an eyebrow with far less indulgence than he offered Kamarie, but didn’t bother properly reprimanding them. They’d had the brains to stop on their own; they’d get that much mercy. He would keep a closer eye on them though, even if just to see whether he got an excuse to pound some idiots himself.</p><p>“Ready now?” Kamarie asked in an overly sweet voice, balanced and near bouncing on the balls of her feet, grinning mockingly at him, “I could have killed you a half dozen times already if this were real combat. Despite all your swagger and noise, you are <em>quite</em> incompetent. You'd barely rate as cannon fodder, you <em>impotent</em> ass.”</p><p>There were scattered chuckles and whispers from the observers as her insults only enraged the idiot further, goading him into action. With a roar, he lunged at Kamarie, who simply spun away, catching his other leg with a vicious slash as she did – and laughing at him. </p><p>Aelius had to shake his head as he watched this schooling go down. She kept cackling while she led him around the ring for a few minutes, taking care to taunt him when he looked to be regaining use of his mind. When he started actually flagging, even a little winded, she immediately pounced, switching to a series of sharp, offensive moves that forced him back. With not enough time between blows for him to turn and run, he was hard pressed to avoid or block everything. Within seconds she had scored several more solid hits, leaving greasepaint-smeared marks that would translate into some lovely colored bruises on his abdomen and ribs, his other arm just above the wrist and at the shoulder.</p><p>He had barely marked her at all - scoring only a couple minor “wounds” on her offhand arm. If he showed some sort of redeemable features in the other assessments, they’d have to get someone else to do a sparring assessment on him. And then they’d have to spend a lot of time insulting him while they fought so he stopped losing his head.</p><p>Kamarie eased off the attack slightly, but kept playing cat and mouse with plenty of mocking innuendos about his lack of stamina the entire time, and Aelius found himself almost hoping they did find some redeemable features. They could have<em> so much fun</em> with that training.</p><p>Finally, Kamarie was tired of the game and Kole was just plain tired. His rage and frustration made him sloppy, and he began to go for full-force blows that could potentially end a fight, if they could connect. As tired as he was though, his form was absolute shit, and he left himself wide open as he raised his baton for a two-handed blow. Kamarie took full advantage of the opening to duck inside his guard, slamming her baton across his ribs more than hard enough to fracture bone and using the momentum to slip aside, catching a glancing blow that barely left a mark on her upper arm. A sharp backhanded blow buried the pommel of her baton in his solar plexus and his weapon dropped from nerveless fingers as she followed up with a hard elbow to his chin.</p><p>Taking a step back, she kicked the fallen weapon out of his reach. She spared a glance their way and Aelius simply smiled. He had grabbed the brunette by the scruff of the neck, sure. But the blonde had stepped out of his way when he did and not even tried to object. It seemed one out of three had learned something, even if it was just keeping his mouth shut when surrounded by hostiles. She gave a mute snarl-smile that definitely made the one he had a grip on flinch, before her attention turned back to her opponent, who had yet to concede.</p><p>Aelius almost laughed when the blonde properly buried his face in his hands at his idiot friend’s next move. The fool was wheezing, gasping for breath, but rather than concede, he glared, and shifted his weight to lunge forward.</p><p>Without waiting for him to actually move, Kamarie feinted a blow at his head and kicked his feet out from under him when he reacted, sending him sprawling sideways. Within seconds, she had him rolled face down, and was seated on his back, pinning his upper arms with her knees and his wrists with her feet, one hand fisted in his hair to force his head back and the other holding her baton to his throat. He bucked slightly, trying to dislodge her, and she responded by grinding a boot harder into his bruised wrist, and pulling his head even farther back until he groaned in pain.</p><p>"Why, you were absolutely right!" she said brightly, "That was an easy match. Just look at you - dismembered, disemboweled, bleeding out... Do you know what I do next?" She leaned forward to hiss in his ear, “I toast your death with a cup of your own blood, you utter jackass.”</p><p>With a final cuff to the head, hard enough to be disorienting and leave his ears ringing, she stood, folding her arms and making eye-contact with his two friends. “I believe you two have somewhere else to be?” </p><p>The intelligent one promptly nodded and scurried out the door. The other stared for a long few seconds at his soundly defeated friend groaning on the floor before stalking off as well.</p><p>"Mathis, Ava," Aelius addressed two of the observers, "Would you take out the trash, please? We do have nearly a score of recruits to assess this morning."</p><p>He then shot Kamarie his own half-mad grin, "And this evening, looks like you and I are going on a Hunt."</p><p>The veterans in the room promptly paled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The title and Company name comes from the quote "Cry 'Havoc!,' and let slip the Dogs of War." (Wm. Shakespeare, 'Julius Caesar', Act 3) Aelius and his mercenary buddies are definitely havoc-bringing war dogs, so... this seems like a nice place to introduce a few of them. -- OrigamiRoses</p><p>Aelius' mercenary buddies are quite the collection, and it just wouldn't be fair to not let you all have a chance to know them. Hope you enjoyed! Also, OrigamiRoses informs me that murderhobo is apparently a DnD term used for parties whose strategy can be summarized as "Hulk SMASH!" which is... well. Not <em>wrong</em>. -- MueraRashaye<br/>-just to clarify, it's a <i>slang</i> term, not an official D&amp;D designation. ~OR</p><p>Edit:I promised you art, but my Deviant Art account is being a pain about this, so... here are the (publicly viewable, free) posts on my Patreon instead. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/posts/28177209">Andrej and Aelius</a> and <a href="https://www.patreon.com/posts/28176982">Kamarie</a>. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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